You Can't Look Over Your Shoulder Enough, Son
by Just.Pieces.In.Their.Games
Summary: Finnick has done something bad, eligible for torture. Annie is only 15 and he's 23. Her purity is tantalizing, pulling him to her even after he's made up his mind to never look back. Snow is on Finnick's tail, even calling him back to the Capitol for another "job" of pleasing a stranger, but Finnick's mind is always on Annie and he finds himself hiding and fighting for illegal love
1. Chapter 1

_**Very **_**short first chapter, but it's just a sample. Enjoy, I'll hopefully post again tomorrow.**

I walk swiftly down the pathway, realizing what I've just done. Whether either of us realized it or not, it was a crime, one that will be looked at as vile and unacceptable. I try to cram the tail of my shirt back into my trousers, my breathing shallow.

It was amazing, I'll tell you that. It's not like she didn't want it, she was provoking me, whispering in my ear, touching my sweet spots. _Oh my god brain, please shut the fuck up!_ I inwardly snap. There's nothing more I want than to go back there and have her a second time, but the words in my head keep returning; _she's fifteen, you creep! _And _you'll be arrested, you sick, sick bastard! _If there's one thing the Capitol won't stand it's a minor being with a man like me.

It's not like I'm a forty year old guy unable to keep his dick in his pants, I'm twenty three. I did think I'd scare Annie away with my unusually rough, racy and almost sadist tactics in the bedroom, but she found it elating and "sexy".

Annie is, unlike many girls, un-phased by my status as the Capitol's face of perfection. They used me, and I hope to, one day, spit on President Snow's grave. He's a sick man, making me… _You're really going to think about that _now_?_

I heave a sigh, running a hand through my unusually messy hair. I can't help but think that just minutes ago it's her fingers that were in it, tugging and pulling as she cried out. _Oh my god. Oh. My. God._

How the hell am I supposed to forget this? Am I just supposed to leave Annie in the dust? I can't do that. I honestly… I like her. I'd make _myself_ sick if I used the word "love".

I'm a victor. Just because I have the riches like the big house and my name on everyone's mind and the ability to never have to work for my food or money doesn't mean I'm happy. I'm alone. God, am I alone. There's this emptiness inside me, this hallow pit in my stomach that can be filled with nothing but Annie, Annie, Annie. I'm not trying to be poetic and deep, that's the truth. She allures me with the sweet and sensitive façade, but totally blew me off of my feet when she kissed me and… I have to stop thinking about it. But the scene is playing in my head like it's a broken record.

* * *

She stood there, watching me as I scrubbed my hands clean after helping her scale her fish that she planned to cook her mother for her birthday dinner. Why she called on me, I didn't know at first. When I arrived, she'd looked exquisite in her baby blue cotton dress that'd hugged her middle in just the right way.

She reached behind her, grabbing a rag and walking closer. I stopped focusing on the task at hand, my mind attracted by her soft touch on my neck. Goosebumps rose on my skin and she smiled, using her fingers to stroke the warm skin of my jaw instead of the towel. I turned to her, my hands still wet. She used the rag to dry them for me, never taking her eyes off of mine.

"Uh, Annie…" I breathed, sensing the warmth from her body as her toes came flush with mine. Her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes were wide with innocence. I could feel myself growing hard and was embarrassed that she might see, or worse feel it. Her green eyes never leaving mine, and I felt my chest vibrate, and it took me a moment to realize I was groaning. I had immediately shut myself up, but Annie unmistakably heard, and she smiled at my uncomfortable look I gave her.

"You're definitely not playing by the rules now." I found myself whispering as her hand wandered its way up my torso, stopping at my pec.

"I don't want to anymore." She had growled, attacking my lips with hers. I backed up until my hips hit the hard edge of the wooden counter top. She guided my hands around her, forcing me to clasp them behind her back.

"Oh…" I whimpered as she kissed my collarbone, undoing the first button of my shirt, revealing more of my tender skin. I had never spoken that way to a lover from the Capitol, I was always the one causing the pleasure, and this was foreign to me. Her hands crawled up my back and into my hair, curling into fists, tugging. I moaned at the dull pain, her hips pressing against mine.

_Oh shit,_ I'd thought to myself. She grinded herself against my erection, and I almost melted into her. "Don't tease me." I snapped but she ignored, continuing to do just that. My hands started to drift lower, all the way down to her posterior, and squeezed. She leaned further into me at the touch, biting my bottom lip.

* * *

I'm suddenly ripped out of my flashback as someone calls my name. "Finnick!" Someone yells, and I look around for its source, still dazed. As my names hollered again, I recognize it. It's Sephora, a young girl who always used to hang around the pier before I was reaped. I haven't seen much of her since I came back, but she started popping up more lately. She's twenty two now, her figure finally full.

"Sephora." I say, a little surprised as she jogs towards me, smiling.

"Hi Finnick. It's been awhile." She places her hands on her hips, looking up at me.

"It has. You look much older." I try to be friendly but my mind keeps skipping back to Annie. There's a stark contrast between her and the woman in front of me. The fact that Annie was pure and sweet until I took it away is one. I know for a fact that Sephora is not a virgin. I remember some boys sitting at the edge of the dock speaking quietly. They whispered her name, and something about her being drunk out of her mind. I burned red with anger as they told each other they abused the fact she couldn't tell up from down, four of them taking her at once.

"Well I am older. You look handsome as ever, Odair." Her smirk is hard to miss, straight and gleaming. It lights up her face. _What if she doesn't remember that night?_ She walks in a circle around me, tugging on my un-tucked shirt. "In a rush?" She's giddy even though there's a sexy undertone in her voice.

"Seems so. What are you doing down here?" I ask, continuing to walk the path I was on, the question letting her know she's free to follow.

"Just wandering. I stumbled upon you and couldn't help but stop for a chat." She walks along beside me, happy as can be, waving at an old couple sitting on their porch. They wave back, but their eyes lock on me. "Man, you're a chick magnet no matter what age." She sees the woman's eyes on me. I chuckle, watching her small yet curvy frame as she scoots ahead of me since we come upon two trees, wide enough apart only one body may squeeze through. I slide through, seeing her already at least twenty feet ahead.

The benefits of living on the docks all your life is your feet become trusting and sturdy on any ground, though she's much slyer than me. She glances back at me, grinning as she jumps over a puddle. I look back at where I'm coming from feeling like Peacekeepers should be pursuing me, taking me captive after what I'd done.

"Nervous?" She yells from even further ahead, and it shocks me a little how nimble she on her feet. "Do I actually have that effect on you, Odair?"

"Perhaps." I say a little quieter, keeping my hands in my pockets as I walk after her. She waits for me, sporting a grin.

"I have to go. It was great seeing you." She leans forward, rolling onto her tip toes, kissing my cheek. "I hope to again soon." She gives me no time to respond, turning and scurrying off. I touch my face, wishing those were Annie's warm lips. Turning around, I walk back in the direction of the victors village.

It all goes south from there.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Some people may not like this chapter, it gets a little raunchy.**_

I'd made it home with a minimal amount of suspicious glares and now I sit on the plush couch in my living room. There's a knock on the door and I walk slowly to answer it, groaning as I get up. I run a hand through my hair, turning the doorknob and seeing a Peacekeeper standing on my porch, expressionless and stone still. "President Snow would like you to return to the capital for a short period of time. He says he has a client for you." He says.

God dammit. It's been months since I got called upon. The Peacekeeper holds out his hand in the direction of a small buggy which will take me to the train station. I comply, sparing myself the waste of time and breath.

* * *

This is such a routine for me I fall asleep on the train after receiving the directions of where to go when I get to the capital. We're there before I realize, and a Peacekeeper barks at me to wake up. "You'll be late. You have to leave." He says as I stand, ramming a compulsive hand through my hair. I follow him out onto the streets, following my orders and walking alone down the crammed sidewalks.

People watch me with wide eyes, remembering me from my time in the arena of the Hunger Games nine years ago. I try not to get lost, walking into a massive building that on the inside is all crazy colors and fancy music. I stop at the front desk, asking what floor room number 487 was on. She said the fourth and I nodded, thanking her. She gawks at me as I walk away and over towards the elevator, stepping in with a bunch of expressionless weird looking capital freaks, and a few women gasp as they recognize my face. Two men in the back mutter to each other, knowing exactly what I'm here for.

On the fourth floor I step out along with a young girl and her mother who go the opposite way as me. The little girl takes a second and third glance back at me as I watch for room number 487.

456… 547… I walk slowly. I know I'm being watched. I always am. 478... 479… I never know what kind of freaks are waiting for me on the other side of the door. 487. I sigh, knocking. It's quiet for a moment before the door opens, and a young woman answers the door. She's very familiar and it takes me just a fraction of a second to remember her from the games. She's a victor. She smiles at me, inviting me in. I'm not supposed to ask for names so I don't. I don't introduce myself either, just remove my jacket.

"You're much taller than I expected." She says; her tone seductive.

"Why do so many people tell me that?" I wonder aloud and she chuckles at me.

"My name's Johanna." She says, stepping towards me. My brow furrows since I really shouldn't know her name, though I already do. "I think that will come in handy in a minute or two." I unbutton my shirt, removing it and placing it on the couch, in just my undershirt and pants now. Johanna walks to me, stroking my bicep. I slide my hands under her shirt, removing it for her and soon after rip my belt from its loops. Her body is flawless but it doesn't get me aroused; only actual love can.

I move her hair and her breath hitches as my lips graze the sensitive skin of her neck, nipping and sucking. She pulls my hair, and it's those kinds of small hints that let me know how someone… prefers the activity to come. I wrap her hair around my wrist, pulling her head back even further for easier access. She grips my shoulders as I use my free hand to undo the button on her jeans, sliding them down her hips. She smells sweet and a bit enticing, but this is work not play.

I'm not entirely comfortable with lips touching lips but it always happens anyway. My lips leave a warm trail up her jawline until finally our mouths are connected, our tongues battling as I walk her backwards. Her knees hit the edge of the low couch and she falls on it, but I stay upright, removing my undershirt and throwing it somewhere and Johanna watches me as I remove my trousers.

I grab her wrist, picking her up and turning her away from me, my stomach against her back. She growls something to me, and it takes me a moment to realize it was "I like it hard. I can take a little pain." I bend her forward and she places her hands on the back of the couch, turning her head to look at me out of the corner of her eye. I hook my thumbs under the fabric of her panties, pushing them down and they pool around her ankles and do the same to my boxers. I spank her and she cries out, shutting herself up with a pleasured groan.

I reach down in-between her legs, stroking the insides of her wet folds. She moans, closing her eyes and just reveling in the movements of my fingers. I find myself, as sick as it makes me, picturing Johanna as Annie, though it's hard. Annie's frail and isn't a fan of S&M, while Johanna breathes heavily in ecstasy as I ram three fingers into her. I reach for my trousers, pulling a condom from its pocket. The wrapper cracks in my fingers as I unwrap it, and after putting it on, I place my hands on Johanna's hips and thrust into her.

She gasps as I fill her, her eyes flying open. She soon closes them as the rhythm gets faster and more aggressive. I tilt my head back because, even though I don't want it to, this feels amazing. Though with Annie, my mind wasn't so fogged. As I pump into this young woman I don't even know, I think about many things. Sephora, Annie, going back home, even how much I hate President Snow. He put me through this. He's the reason I've made so many strangers, men or women, scream with pleasure that I was forced to give them. I will never be free, ever again. There will always be a watchful eye on me, like there is now. A camera, somewhere in this room, watches me bang Johanna's brains out. The sad thing is I don't care anymore. I've given up and basically thrown my life away, doing everything but yelling "Fuck it! I don't want it anymore!" in Snow's face.

Johanna growls as her hands morph into claws, scratching the hell out of the fabric of the couch. She's obviously not one to yell like some are, just sticking with soft obscenities. I ram in her again, holding her hips to stabilize her. "Oh," she whimpers, dragging out the one syllable word so it has four or five. I look over to the strange clock on the wall. It's five twenty-two, and my job is done at five thirty. I plunge into Johanna deeper, making her finally let out the yell she'd been holding in. "Ah!" She cries.

I groan though I try to conceal it. I think showing delectation in a time like this is just wrong; somewhat sickening. It would make me that much more like these "clients". Johanna cries out again, her body convulsing but I keep on going until I hit my climax, growling and leaning forward, placing my hands on the back of the couch as well and I stop pumping. My stomach to her back once again, Johanna crumbles, sitting on the couch watching me as I pull up my boxer shorts.

"What do I owe you?" She asks, sliding her panties back up her legs.

"I don't ask for money." I mumble, putting on my pants.

"What do you ask for, then?"

"Secrets," I say, sitting next to her as I pull on my undershirt.

"Oh yeah? Of what kind?"

"Any. Anything about the capital I'm not supposed to know." Her face falls as she understands why I'm whispering.

"We were being watched weren't we?" She mutters. I nod and she clenches her fists. "I know a thing or two. I heard a rumor about district thirteen yesterday." She says, and now it's she that nods as I raise an eyebrow. "I heard it's still occupied. Have you ever seen the tapes on television they play of district thirteen?"

"Yes…" I mumble.

"Have you ever noticed that every time, the same mockingjay flies in the top right corner of the shot?" I think back, but I've never been observant enough to notice. "It's just more evidence." She says. I look down at my hands, my brain working a mile a minute. I thank Johanna, telling her she still has to pay Snow, and leave her as she wears an unhappy frown on her face.

* * *

_**Hey guys, sorry for the long break I've been swimming in homework these past few weeks. And if you don't like absolutely 100% kinky sex scenes, you probably shouldn't read my stories. Check out my latest one about Peeniss, it's called "50 Shades of Poor" Thanks!**_


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